


prompt 12: Fantasy

by xiilnek



Category: Dark Tower - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, First Time, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiilnek/pseuds/xiilnek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie's questions take him about as far from smooth as it's possible to be. Somehow, everyone has a very nice evening anyway.</p><p>*porn has been edited, and hopefully improved</p>
            </blockquote>





	prompt 12: Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: **Warnings!** This story contains a hint of Roland's mommy issues. Just one or two sentences hinting at it, not nearly enough to tag it, but plenty for anyone who already knows it's there to realize what's going on. 
> 
> I didn't mention this at first because I didn't think it would register with most people in more than a 'huh, that's a weird thing for him to think about right now' sort of way, but it occurred to me that someone who did know that about Roland would probably be able to put it together. If that does squick you, I really hope you're the type of person who reads author's notes. 
> 
> ___
> 
> A [prompt table](http://100-prompts.livejournal.com/692.html) from a livejournal community, plus a random number generator, and here this is. I'm kind of new to the whole writing porn thing, so feel free to drop me a line letting me know how I can improve. Thanks, too, to blackthirteen and thedevilsdust, who got so excited when I started talking about writing this that I couldn't not finish. Hope this is something near as good as you expected it to be. 
> 
> PS. further thanks to blackthirteen, porn adviser extraordinaire.

"Come on Roland, everyone's got a fantasy. You can tell. I won't judge."

Roland looks over at the boy's still form, sleeping next to Oy on the other side of the campfire, and wonders how deeply that sleep goes. The moment Jake wakes up this conversation will be over. He's sleeping off the fever from the spider bite, though, still gets tired more easily than he'll admit, wakes up late and groggy. He's out for the rest of the night, at least. Roland takes a slow breath in through his nose, looks up again.

"Eddie."

"I'm just, I'm just saying... I worry about you, man. Having to listen to me and Suze every night." Eddie gives a grin too bright to be real. His foot starts bouncing, then abruptly stops.  Roland looks to Susannah, and whatever she sees on his face makes a smile stretch over hers before she makes an obvious effort to stifle it.  She leans forward and pokes at the fire with a stick, lips still twitching. No help there, so Roland turns back toward the source of this bizarre excuse for a conversation.

"Eddie, if there's a point, I wish you'd get to it."

"Point! No point. I just, uh..." He pauses, grimaces, and Roland hopes this means he's going to give up words, for once, and spare all of them. Or at least stop pretending so badly.

"I just, I wanna make sure you're okay, you know? That you're not... lonely..." Eddie's decided to press on but more, if his desperate expression's any hint,  because he can't stop now than because he actually wants to. Susannah, still staring too intently at the ground near their fire, looks like she might start laughing outright, and Roland's not sure whether that makes this better or worse.  

"I'm not lonely."

"Good! That's good. But you know, did you know, fantasies can make that better. Sharing them. If-if you were. Lonely, I mean."  

Roland raises his hands, runs them both down his face. Slowly. It's a little like being pricked by a thousand dull needles, this conversation. Only with every needle you got huge, terrified hazel eyes staring at you and a stammering apology before the process started all over again.

He glances at Susannah, meets her eyes. Makes certain that he's got this right. Her expression by now is a broad grin but that softens just a little, looking at him. She nods.

"Eddie, you're a married man. If you want to bed me, you should to be able to say it aloud."

Roland should mark this moment in his head. This night, the one occasion Roland Deschain robbed Eddie Dean of his words. Of course, it doesn't last. But that's all right.

Eddie moves toward  him. He doesn't walk, he totters, looking like a man moving through a great deal of shock. Roland watches. Waits. Holds himself still as Eddie drops to his knees in front of him.

"I want." Eddie's voice is hoarse, almost cracked. "I want very much."  

He gazes down, watching his hands start to unbuckle Roland's belt. His eyes are focused, lips parted. Roland's hands rise, hesitate. The right lands on Eddie's hair, feels its oil, the soft dark slide of it under his palm. Eddie's hands smooth over the hollow of Roland's hips and Roland's slides down to Eddie's cheek.  Stubble rasps as Eddie looks up.

There's a pair of dark eyes to match Eddie's hazel, dark eyes smiling over his shoulder. "Pardon me, boys. Just wanted to get a better seat." Susannah squirms against Eddie's back and then leans around him, slipping her fingers through the hair at Roland's temple. "The view back there's terrible," she says to Roland, and kisses him.  Her lips are dry, tasting faintly of the meat and leaf-wrapped herbs they'd had for dinner. Those full lips move against his thin ones, kissing him slow and deep, and as she moves back he draws in a sudden breath. Smells that indefinable scent you can only catch when two people are very, very close.  Wants suddenly to feel her undressed, feel her warmth against his own. She nods at Eddie then and he nods back, straightens, looks as if he's starting to come out of that drifting shock. Roland watches her as she moves around behind him, then turns to Eddie, who's looking at him with something fascinated and intent.

"You worked out a strategy for this," Roland says. That look that had passed between them, not just the knowing of ka-tet but the instant communication of man and wife. He imagines it, their heads bent together, working out tactics like soldiers standing over a map. A smile begins to prick at the corners of his mouth. Eddie sees that hint of a smile and returns it, magnified.

"Could have done a few more practice runs on that introduction, though," Says Susannah, slipping her hands underneath the collar of Roland's shirt.

"You practiced? Am I really so intimidating?"  
  
"You know you are," Eddie murmurs, pulls Roland's hand off his face and kisses his palm. "Come on, though. I was asking for a reason. What's your fantasy?" His eyes flicker over Roland's shoulder and Susannah's hands start to move again, sliding down and finding the hem of Roland's shirt. He can feel her fingers brushing against the small of his back.

"What do you want us to do to you?" She asks. Her voice is husky, low and warm. They wait patiently while the gears in his mind grind their slow way toward an answer.

"Never had one. Not one that does much for me."  He watches Eddie's fingers move over the back of his hand, tracing his bones. "Not enough imagination, I guess."

"That's fine." Eddie's leaning forward, might not even realize he's doing it. "But you're in charge of this show, Roland. What do you want?"

"I..." Roland moves the hand Eddie's studying so carefully, slides his two fingers around Eddie's. "I want you to touch me." His other hand reaches down and back, drawing Susannah's arm around his waist. "Both of you."

"Well, that sure is a promising start." Susannah hooks her chin over his shoulder, her free hand sliding under his shirt and resting low on his stomach. "Anywhere in particular? How about..."

Her fingers slide across his stomach, under his belt, and he twists to watch, feeling them travel over his ass and then even further downward. Raises his eyebrows at her. "If that pleases you." He shrugs.

"Think I'll hold off on that, then." She slides his shirt up instead, spreads her thighs and rolls her hips, pressing close against his back. Eddie helps her move Roland's shirt over his arms, up quick around his head, and for a moment he's being undressed like a child in his room, his mother picking his outfit for some important event. He inhales sharply, focuses on Eddie's face. Watches his shirt thrown over his purse and grabs at Eddie's shoulders, pulls.

"I need you. Closer."

"All right." Eddie grins, and moves.

"These come off." He picks at Eddie's shirt, starts removing it with quick, businesslike movements. "You too, Susannah."

"Here, I got it." Eddie, now shirtless, reaches his arms around Roland and toward Susannah, smiles at her murmured thanks. For a moment Roland's wrapped in them, breathes in and smells them, slides a hand close along Eddie's spine.

"The rest, too. All of it." Eddie's waistband is in the way so Roland pushes at it, moves his hands between them to get at Eddie's belt. The three move around each other, lifting hips, and soon all their clothes are in a pile together, far away.

"What now?" Roland's not surprised that Eddie's questions never really stop, even here, like this. Roland studies his face, asks his own question instead.

"What do you want, Eddie?" He glances back at Susannah, then forward. "What strategy did you decide to use on me?"  

"Well, I was thinking..." He glances up, over Roland's shoulder. "Scoot back a little, Suze."

She folds her hands over his shoulders, scoots back, and Roland lets her draw him back with her. His bed roll's almost too small for this, but they manage.

"Lay down for me, sugar." She nudges at his shoulders and he moves obediently, feeling her draw his hair back. Her hands smooth over either side of his face, arranging his head on her thigh. Her breasts hang over him and he studies her smile, the way her lips look almost red in the firelight.

Then there are hands on his knees, fingernails teasing a path down the inside of his thighs. "What I want," says Eddie, leaning in. "Is to take care of _you_ , for once." One side of his lips curves up, gentle. "May I?"

"Aye." When Roland finds his voice it's rough, a rasp that has nothing to do with the stirring between his legs.  "Aye, if you can."

"That sounds like a challenge." It hadn't been, not in the way Eddie means, but Eddie's smile is wide, excited, and Roland drinks in the sight.  

"Suze, do you have the...?" Eddie reaches out and Susannah picks a folded packet of cloth off the ground, handing it to him. He unfolds it, dipping two fingers in.

"Okay so uh, this isn't what I'm used to using. But it's the best we could do." Eddie looks a little embarrassed now but still pleased, still eager.  His fingers are warm when they slide over Roland's testicles, and Roland realizes they'd had that packet sitting by the fire, warming it up just for this. They really _had_ prepared, and Roland's suddenly, deeply touched by that.

Susannah lifts his hand, sticking two of his fingers into her mouth. It's an odd sensation, Susannah's tongue wet against his fingers, Eddie's fingers smooth against his cock.

"Don't mind me," she says, and moves Roland's hand down and down, and then inside of her. The angle's a little awkward, but not uncomfortable. He crooks his fingers, turning his wrist, watching her face closely. Whatever rhythm he's trying to find is broken in a moment, lost in the feeling of Eddie's mouth, moving over him. Eddie moves, licks, and then there's a vibration, muffled noises.

Eddie is talking. He's _talking_. Of course he is. A laugh bursts out of Roland, half loud, graceless laughter and half helpless giggling. It's a sound he can't remember ever hearing himself make. " _Eddie_ ," he manages.

"Wha?" Eddie looks up, grins, flicks his fingers at them, and gets back to it. Still talking. Roland looks up at Susannah, see's she's giggling, too, and for a moment they just grin at each other, not even pretending exasperation. Then Roland crooks his fingers once more, slides them against the inside of her and she gasps, taken by surprise. Her grin turns devilish and she starts to roll her hips, helping him along.  

There's a moan, deep and desperate, and Roland looks toward it, seeing Eddie's started to roll his hips, too. Eddie presses the heel of one hand against his own erection and lets out a second noise, quieter, the sound feeling like it seeps through right to the base of Roland's cock.

"Need some help, sugar?" Susannah's voice is breathless, but too steady; as Eddie mumbles some wordless answer Roland moves his fingers inside of Susannah out of time with one another, speeds the rhythm of his hand. Sees a shudder dance across her shoulders and smiles, bares his teeth.

Then he takes a cue from Susannah and rolls his own hips, but just barely. Cautious. Watches Eddie carefully. Eddie makes what sounds like an approving noise and his eyes move up to Roland's, his hands move to Roland's hips and start to rock them. Roland lets his hips follow Eddie's guidance, making bigger, bolder movements once he's sure that Eddie can handle them.

Something drips onto his cheek and he looks up, sees a drop of sweat clinging to the tip of Susannah's nipple. Roland, being who and what he is, has a certain amount of awareness of his surroundings at all times, but in this moment all that seems to come into focus, rushes to the forefront of his mind. The smell of their sweat, the way it gleams on Susannah's nipple, runs down Eddie's hairline. The heat of his own body, and the warmth of the fire. The flickering shades of that fire across their skin, smudging one side of them into darkness, casting the other in bright, shifting light. Two of the first people he's loved in a long time, loves them sometimes to the point of pain and they're with him, _with_ him, not because he drew them here but because they want to be.

" _Faster_ ," he grinds out, and Eddie's eyes snap to him, and he nods sharply. Susannah's hips roll and Eddie's head bobs, his lips draw back and there's teeth brushing against him and his fingers curl, trying to draw into a fist. Susannah gasps, slapping a hand onto Roland's chest and grasping at it, pulling at the greying hair there.

" _A-aaahh--_!" The noise escapes him and his hips jerk, his free hand flails and finds one of Eddie's, wraps tightly, clumsily around it. Eddie's hand squeezes his and, gods, Eddie's actually starting to hum a song, some quick, darting tune and that's it, ridiculously, gloriously, that's the thing that tips Roland over the edge and he must make some sound, feels it but doesn't hear it, some low, rasping thing that stutters its way out of his throat and he's _with_ them now, there's ka-tet and then there's _this_ , floating together on a raft of flickering light and that magnificent, ridiculous tune.

Eddie's lips slide off of him. Roland opens his eyes, blinks away the golden light hazing through the air, hears himself breathe. His mind's blank, maybe blank like it is during a shootout except...

The comparison drifts away.  Another drop of sweat lands on his face and he looks up, sees Susannah smiling down at him. He draws his fingers out of her, reaches up with a heavy hand and thumbs the sweat off of her nipple. Her smile softens and he smiles back, easy and light.

"Hey, guys." Eddie's scooting up the bedroll toward them. His erection's high and hard, and he moves carefully. "I know this probably isn't the time, but I think we scared the kid away."

Roland lets his head roll to the side and sure enough, the spot in which Jake was sleeping is empty.  Not sleeping so deeply, after all.

Roland knows he should be embarrassed, or maybe just repentant, but laughter glides out of his throat instead, all quiet, huffing breaths.

"Yeah," Eddie continues, and he's grinning wide when Roland looks back at him. "Gonna have to figure out a hell of an apology for that one."

"Later," Susannah says. She slides an arm around Eddie's waist with one hand, brushes the damp hair from Roland's brow with her other. "Maybe we should clean up first, before we make things even worse."

Roland takes a breath, sliding his elbows underneath him and moving to sit up.

" _Aht!_ " Eddie throws a hand out toward Roland, who stops. It's a noise Roland's only heard used toward horses and very small children, and he questions it with raised eyebrows.

"We're taking care of you, remember? Let us do it."  

So he lies back, feels Eddie run a damp rag over his wet fingers, watches Susannah wipe a smudge of white from the corner of Eddie's mouth. She runs the rag over Eddie's face, while Eddie's fingers card slowly through Roland's hair. The light's bright, flickering over their faces, and Roland runs his fingers over every inch of their skin that he can reach, until it's time to get dressed. 


End file.
